


If That's What You Wanna Do

by detoxXjustXtoXretox



Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Band Fic, Chicago, Chicago (City), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Rights, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on Wattpad, city
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detoxXjustXtoXretox/pseuds/detoxXjustXtoXretox
Summary: Emerson moves to Chicago with his family, and he meets a boy there he just can't seem to find again.The story title/chapter titles is/are from the song Love Me by the band The 1975. I highly recommend them and the song!





	1. There's Things We'd Like To Change

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI: This story is set in 2019, but Emerson is 18, Remington is 20, and Sebastian is 22.
> 
> I originally wrote this on Wattpad as a George Daniel/Matty Healy fic (The 1975), but now it's an Emerson Barrett/Original Male Character fic. I deleted the fic on Wattpad because I didn't like it, btw, so try not to go looking for it. The Wattpad I wrote this on is tomdelongeisgay. I write Oasis and Blur fics there. Check me out if you want! (wink wink nudge nudge)
> 
> I don't own Chicago, Palaye Royale (or any of its members), Boystown, Illinois, or any places except for Stafford's Place. I do own Clark and James Stafford. They're not trademarked or anything, but they're my original characters.

Emerson knew his mother was trying to reassure him. He really did, and he had to give her credit for trying his best, but Emerson honestly couldn’t care less.

“We’re almost there,” she said from the driver’s seat. If he really thought about it, all the boy wanted was to be back in Las Vegas, dicking around with Matt and Luke and just having fun in general. Sadly, he had to move to Boystown, Chicago because this was the life he had to deal with.

His mother - with all due respect - pulled an idea out of her ass to move from Las Vegas to Chicago for a “fresh start” (even though the divorce was a few years ago). Oh yeah, his brother Remington was also obsessed with the city for some reason he didn’t feel the need to understand.

Emerson wanted to drown himself in a gas station toilet because of how often his mother reminded him how close they were to their new personal hell. The car slowly trickled down the street of dilapidated houses fighting their ways through life, much like him. He couldn’t help but frustratedly stare out the window and gawk at the conditions the houses were left in. _ How did people live like this? _ It was hurting his eyes to just _ look _at them, so he could only imagine the horror of living in one.

Soon, the car was pulling into the concrete driveway of a beige house under the drooping roof covered in emerald moss, flaunting the age of the house. The pickle green grass (probably radioactive) was in dire need of a fresh cut, as it grew past Emerson’s feet and up to his knees. That was saying a lot, seeing as he was six feet tall. The last owners, who no one knew who they were - Emerson imagined them as two old lowlifes with canes and oxygen tanks - felt it wasn’t their job to care for their land. If Emerson was asked, he would definitely say he didn’t exactly care for the elderly, but he didn’t exactly have a say in what they chose to do with themselves.

At some point, the roof was a deep navy blue, but after the conquer of the moss swirling around and the age adding to it, it was now a very rotten, mustard-toned yellow. Tall, white pillars surrounded the front porch, caked in moss and waiting for death or termites as they supported what used to be a roof. 

The porch ached as well. When it was stepped on by Emerson’s brother Sebastian, who was the first in line to walk into the house, it creaked under the weight of his foot like a ratty old cat found in back-alleys and dumpsters. 

The single-file line into the house was Sebastian, Remington, their mother, and Emerson. Emerson was last because he would rather have shot himself than have been first. When they all reached the inside, his mom and brothers explored what the house had to offer them (as if they hadn’t seen it on the website and taken multiple tours). Emerson watched them all scatter into the house - Remington went for the kitchen, Sebastian went for the living room, and his mom went for the office - and decided to just go straight to his new room, which didn’t even have a bed yet. 

While laying on the wooden floor of the chilly room, Emerson knew he had to get his mind off of Sin City, the place he missed the most, for it was doing him no good dwelling on things he couldn’t change. He got up and zipped up his brown jacket, heading out of the door to his new room and down the stairs.

“I’m going out,” he called to whoever was listening and walked out the front door. 

Thinking back to how Emerson and his friends used to pass the time gave him the idea to wander around Boystown to see what it had in store, looking for a place to hang around and maybe loiter by in an effort to find an upside to the inevitable change.


	2. We've Just Come To Represent A Decline In The Standards Of What We Accept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emerson finds "Stafford's Place" and browses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote this a little while ago but I'm deciding to publish it now because honestly why not? 
> 
> I hope you guys like this because I have back pains :)

Emerson wandered for a few blocks, passing windows of televisions, magazines, and pride flags before a small record shop down the street caught his eye.

Underneath a giant paper mache record were the words _"Stafford's Place" _scribbled in bright red neon cursive. Emerson immediately hated the design at first sight, but it was a record store, and he loved music.

He broke into a brisk jog towards the store, crossing the street effortlessly with his long legs. When he reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, he walked over to the door to not only enter, but first check the hours they were in business. Today, the store was open from 10:00 in the morning to 8:00 at night. Emerson let out a slight cheer in his head, then opened the door to step inside.

Once the door behind him closed shut, the smell of plastic and old buildings crashed into his nostrils like a wave. Emerson cringed slightly, as he hated the smell of anything_ old_, but tried to shake it off when he realized the plump, bald man sitting on a stool behind the front cash register was staring at him with a happy smile. Emerson stared back awkwardly because he truly didn't know what else to do.

The man jumped off of the stool and made his way over to Emerson, who just stood there, not sure what to do. Once the man reached the boy, he smiled like Emerson was one of his own. 

"Hey there, kiddo!" the man beamed over-enthusiastically, nearly making Emerson's ears ring. He noticed the name tag displayed on the left side of the man's chest, which looked like a blackboard written on with white chalk. "James," it read.

"How may I help you on this lovely day?" 'James' continued. "I mean, would you look outside? There's not a cloud in the sky!"

Emerson slowly turned his head to look out of the glass door, where he could see the outside, then nodded and forced a smile. He said in a soft voice, "I'm just browsing."

The older man nodded cheerfully, his eyes lighting up as he smiled, making his face turn blood red. "Okie Dokie! Don't be shy to let me know if you need anything, son! I'm always around to help my customers!"

Emerson stood in place as the man walked back to the desk for a few seconds, trying to figure out what his next move should be. _Probably look around_, he thought internally.  He then began browsing the long aisles, scanning the range of vinyls up and down, seeing what the store had to offer, and what was on sale. Sadly, the sale was mainly modern music that he either didn't like or didn't listen to. Fortunately, he did find a record of a band he really liked, _Definitely Maybe _by Oasis, but unfortunately, he forgot his wallet at home. He internally sighed dramatically and began walking back towards the front door.

"Why are you leavin' so quickly, son Nothing caught yer eye?" James smiled sadly at him, and he noticed how much James talked like a pirate. He was just glad James wasn't calling him "lad" or anything.

Emerson shrugged in response. "Left my wallet at home," he mumbled, and the man nodded.

"Well, see you when you get it, then, eh?" the man smiled, and it was Emerson's turn to smile and nod as he walked out the door, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

When he was halfway home, already across the street on the other side, trudging through a park in the fog, he realized he never told the man he was coming back. He felt kind of bad, but then remembered he would probably be coming back within the next hour.

Emerson made it home safe, just in time to see his mother and brothers unloading the moving truck that was now parked in their new driveway. 

Sebastian was the first to spot him. "Hey, Em, where've you been?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. 

"I was out exploring," Emerson answered quietly. 

"Come help, we could use it!" Remington said frustratedly, his skinny form obviously about to collapse under all of the boxes. 

He _did _most likely have to go back to the record store with his wallet because James _was _kind of expecting him. Well, James could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the boy hasn't shown up yet. For that, I'm sorry. He comes soon, though. And I have no idea what Emerson's taste in music is, so I made him like Oasis.
> 
> I hope you guys like this! Your kudos and comments are much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really tried with this one. Make sure to check out my Wattpad (tomdelongeisgay) if you want to!


End file.
